


Hey Beautiful

by EverythingandAnything



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingandAnything/pseuds/EverythingandAnything
Summary: When Seung-Gil receives a text message that he flags as a porn bot, he decides to do what any college student bogged down with exams would do: ignore it, for better or for worse. Fortunately for him, "for better" just happens to involve a certain caring boyfriend of his.





	Hey Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slightlied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlied/gifts).



> To my dearest shifty recipient Jus, I hope this fic is able to bring a smile to your face! 
> 
> Please note though, there is a reference to mild sexual content in this fic, so if you would like to skip, please stop reading from "I'm always in the mood." and resume reading from "It's definitely been too long."

**From <Unknown Number> (13:45)**

**Hey beautiful! We’re not doing so hot here today, so we might need your help for the next week. Let me know soon, okay?**

 

Seung-Gil Lee squints as he lifts his phone closer to his face, the letters slowly blurring before his eyes.  _ Is this spam? Are these the porn bots that Phichit has been telling me so much about? _

His fingers hover over his screen, the blinking indicator seeming to match every throbbing pulse of the vein in his temple before he drops his head onto the cool surface of his desk with a groan, his itchy eyes screaming in relief when he clenches them shut.

_ Of all times, why now? _

As if summoned, the fan in his laptop whirls to life, the fluttering pages of textbooks as deafening as a campus bar concert to his ears, equations flashing before his very eyes. Beneath him, Hoppang grumbles from her place beneath the desk at the sudden noise, her sides rising and falling in a drawn out huff against his socked feet before she rolls over with a whine. Seung-Gil snorts, his foot already drawing patterns over her soft stomach.

“Spoilt girl.”

Hoppang lets out a  _ boof _ of agreement, one paw kicking out against the tower of textbooks crammed to the side, and Seung-Gil groans, his study checklist already filling his thoughts. 

_ Well that was good while it lasted- _

His phone vibrates in his hand, its notification chime drowned out by the meat of his palm, and Seung-Gil lifts his head fast enough for a wave of nausea to run down his throat, the effects of his last mug of coffee already draining away as he taps at the screen, his exhausted muscles screaming with every shaky fumble.

_ If there’s a God, it’ll be a university email about how someone got caught cheating and now every single exam is delayed. Or cancelled. _

 

**From <Unknown Number> (13:50)**

**We’re doing really hot now! Message me back anyway!**

 

Only the advertisements displaying the prices for the newest brand of smartphone keep him from crushing the device in his hand.

_ Of course I get a porn bot of all things. But the probability of it being a wrong number is also fairly high, especially if you take into account that a lot of phone numbers- _

Seung-Gil shakes his head, wincing as a headache blooms once again in his temples, the skin of his palm tacky with sweat as he reaches up to rub at his eyes. 

_ What am I doing wasting time like this? _

With a sigh, he tosses his phone onto the bed, its vibrations muffled by the thick cotton of his blankets, before turning his attention back to the blue glow of his laptop. The content of the MATH1001 exam wasn’t going to learn itself after all. All thoughts about porn bots and spam would have to wait until then.

 

* * *

 

He’s managed to revise through half of Professor Min-So’s material when the sound of someone whistling the opening track from  _ The King and the Skater _ reaches his ears, the orange glow of the sunset hazy from the city’s smog and his faded curtains as it spills into the room. Before Seung-Gil can even stretch his arms above his head, the lock on the front door rattles and clicks, the whistling ending abruptly, replaced by quiet huffs and curses and the sharp jangling of keychains. On the bed, Hoppang huffs, before curling closer into a ball as the door slowly creaks open.

“You still alive?”

Seung-Gil scoffs, his pen dropping to the desk with a  _ clack _ as he runs his fingers through his hair, paying no mind to the greasiness. “No, I’m dead. Arrange a death certificate and cremation for me and send all the details to university admin so they don’t fail my corpse.”

A loud  _ brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring _ echoes through the apartment, and despite the fact that his back muscles ache with every breath, and his eyes feel fit to drip from their sockets if he keeps them open for more than seven and a half seconds, a chuckle spills from Seung-Gil’s lips at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, his smile obvious in every word. “Hello? Ambulance? My boyfriend just passed away, and now I’ve got absolutely  _ no one _ to share this box of bokkeum-bap from Seoulmates with-”

Seung-Gil’s thighs scream in protest when he leaps to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor with the movement, and all thoughts of his carefully organised notes plummet to the bottom of his list of concerns as he stumbles out of his room, his lips already twitching upwards at the sight before him. Even dressed in a casual jacket, hoodie, ripped jeans, and a lowered surgical mask, and standing in his mess of a living room, Phichit Chulanont still manages to take his breath away, and Seung-Gil barely has enough time to open his arms before his boyfriend lowers the hand pressed to his ear to wrap him into a tight hug. “Don’t you dare threaten me by withholding bokkeum-bap.”

The bag of take-out hooked on Phichit’s arm clacks loudly against Seung-Gil’s elbow as he tugs him close, Phichit’s yells muffled from where his face is pressed into his shoulder. “Help! Help! There’s a zombie in my boyfriend’s apartment! He’s after my boyfriend’s food! And me!”

Seung-Gil growls, burying his face against his boyfriend’s neck, the scent of coffee and cologne heady in his lungs. “I changed my mind; I’m alive after all.”

Phichit hums, and Seung-Gil sighs as his boyfriend reaches up to card a hand through his hair, his scalp singing at the familiar sensation of firm fingers. “That’s good to hear. I’m not ready to play the weeping widow role just yet.”

Seung-Gil scoffs, fighting back a yawn as he pulls back to knock their foreheads together, “You’d still beat every other one out there.”

“Damn right I would.” A familiar mouth brushes against his own, and Seung-Gil shivers at the briefest sensation of tongue teasing over his chapped lips before Phichit pulls away with a smile, his hand moving from his hair to cup his jaw, “When was the last time you took a break?”

Seung-Gil grumbles as Phichit squeezes at his cheeks, “Stop that, I’m not your hamster plushie. And I took Hoppang outside an hour ago to answer your question.”

At the very mention of her name, the husky barrels down the hallway, claws clicking loudly on wood as she charges into the back of Seung-Gil’s calves, her eyes bright and her tail thumping against the sides of the sofa when she turns her attention to the bag of take-out before her nose. Phichit squeaks, plastic boxes clattering against one another as he jerks it out of her reach, laughing as Hoppang jumps onto her back legs to paw at his thigh. “Hoppang, no!”

Seung-Gil snorts. “Hoppang, down.”

Twenty something kilograms of panting dog promptly drops down to sit on his foot, and Phichit pouts even as he continues to dangle the bag of take-out high in the air, “But I love you more! You should be listening to me!”

Seung-Gil grunts as Hoppang simply yips in response, her tongue lolling out of her mouth when Phichit reaches rubs at her chest with a socked foot. “I’m the one who feeds her.”

“And have you fed yourself today?”

_ Oh. Right. _

“Um. Snacks. I finished that pack of jerky we bought last week...”

His stomach rumbles loudly, and Phichit sighs, “Seung-Gil…”

“Phichit, I’m  _ fine.  _ You must be even more exhausted than I am; taking an all-day shift during study vacation.”

Phichit hums, leaning into Seung-Gil’s touch when he reaches up to trace the faint circles beneath his eyes. “I can handle it! Plus, all my exams are in the final week; yours are in the first.”

As if summoned, his headache from before returns with a vengeance, and Seung-Gil leans forward to rest his face on Phichit’s shoulder once more, the pressure digging into his eyes both a blessing and a curse. “And don’t I know it.”

He yelps when Phichit pushes him backwards, his feet stumbling over carpet before he drops onto the sofa with an  _ oomph, _ his protests dying in his throat when his boyfriend leans forward to flick at his forehead with a finger with a grin. “See, this is why you need to eat! Now am I serving us this bokkeum-bap or not?”

“ _ Fine _ .”

He smiles when Phichit leans in to press another peck to the corner of his mouth, running his teeth over the line of his jaw as he whispers, “Magic words please?”

Seung-Gil rolls his eyes, even when he leans up to press a quick kiss to Phichit’s nose, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards at the shy grin that grows on his boyfriend’s face. “I love you.”

The grin widens to a smirk, and the pit of Seung-Gil’s stomach drops. “Enough to eat namul? I asked for an extra large serving.”

Seung-Gil wrinkles his nose. “I hate you.”

“Good thing I didn’t buy it then. I got japchae instead. Still extra large.”

“I still hate you.”

Phichit groans, “You have to eat  _ some _ vegetables Seung-Gil during exam period! It’s not healthy otherwise!”

Seung-Gil crosses his arms over his chest with a grumble, “Just like it’s healthy for you to stay up until three a.m. binge-watching The King and the Skater once a week?”

He snorts when Phichit’s free hand swats at his shoulder. “Excuse you, it’s every three weeks!”

Seung-Gil raises an eyebrow, “I’m talking about your exam study binge-watching schedule.”

“I should have never shared that with you if I knew that my beloved boyfriend was going to use it against me in this way!”

Seung-Gil smiles, beckoning his boyfriend closer. “I’m glad you did, though.”

Phichit beams, and Seung-Gil sucks in a shaky breath at the sight, warmth flooding through his chest to seep into the marrow of his bones when he leans in to brush their noses together. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, there’s a special episode airing tonight at seven-thirty!”

Phichit bites his lip, and Seung-Gil internally curses as a healthy flush blooms in his cheeks.

_ Fuck, it’s been too long. At least two weeks since we- _

“I know we both need to study but it’s only an hour and a half? I’d like a break to reboot my brain after work, and I do miss spending time with you...”

Seung-Gil hums, the memory of a distantly related research article in a long-submitted assignment’s reference list drifting to the forefront of his mind as Phichit noses at his jaw.  _ Recent research has shown that taking a break between studying does help to maximise what you remember. _

“Fine.”

He rolls his eyes at the victorious glint in Phichit’s eyes, one finger reaching up to tap at the corners of his grinning mouth. “Go get the food ready then. I’ll pull up your favourite episodes to get you in the mood.”

He chuckles at the kisses pressed against his lips and jaw, his fingers clenching tightly at the fabric of Phichit’s hoodie as he tugs him closer to deepen their kisses, a shiver running down his back as their tongues slide against one another awkwardly before falling back into their rhythm.

“I’m always in the mood.” 

 

* * *

 

One lazy round of mutual handjobs later, the headache has retreated back to a low buzzing annoyance rather than the full-fledged metaphorical maelstrom it had been hours earlier, and Seung-Gil lets himself sink into the cushions with a sigh, tossing the soiled tissues in his hand in the direction of the bin. “It’s definitely been too long.”

Beside him, Phichit wheezes, “Two weeks, five hours, and thirty four minutes, but who’s counting?”

_ Two weeks, five hours, and thirty-wait. _

“Shouldn’t it be fifty five minutes?”

He snorts when Phichit shoves at his shoulder, moving with the momentum to lie down on his side with an  _ oomph _ . “I was simply trying to disprove your statement about nobody counting, Phichit.” 

Phichit clears his throat, “Other people better not be, because that would be grounds for stalking, and we are not going to be living a horror story at this time of the year. Exams are painful enough without potential serial killers in the mix.”

The familiar image of the teetering pile of books on his desk seared into his brain makes a valiant return, and Seung-Gil huffs. “At least that’s one way to get out of doing exam-”

He jumps when a loud  _ crash _ erupts from his room, the sound obvious even through the closed wooden door, and out of the corner of his eye, Seung-Gil watches as Phichit slowly pulls himself up from where he had slipped off the couch, waving away his hand with a glazed look in his eyes. “Please don’t tell me…” 

Seung-Gil groans, the muscles of his legs still shaky as he stumbles to his feet. “Hoppang, what did you do?”

Phichit snickers. “Maybe we shouldn’t have locked her in your room while we were-”

“Please don’t say it.”

“Say what? Cuddling? Necking? Cleaning up the aftermath of some very wonderful orgasms?”

His deadpan expression must be even more obvious than usual, because Phichit merely presses another kiss to his lips with another giggle before stepping away to grab the bag of takeout dropped onto the coffee table. “Go clean up while I reheat dinner. We could do with a bit more relaxing.”

Seung-Gil snorts as he opens the door to his room. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re taking care of the food so you don’t have to deal with the mess.”

Phichit’s hastily thrown middle finger is the last thing he sees before he gets an eyeful of the carnage littered across every horizontal surface within reach of a bored husky, and Seung-Gil sighs as he pushes away the wiggling mass of fur to poke gingerly at a dented textbook.

_ That’ll bring down the resale value by five percent. Maybe less if I can straighten it out, but judging by how deep the crease is, that might not be entirely possi- _

Hoppang yips, bouncing on her paws, scratches appearing on every paper-based material beneath her feet, and Seung-Gil winces as her tail sweeps across his bed to knock even more pages to the floor. His eyes widen at a soft  _ thump _ , and his gaze zeroes in on a familiar black screen lying precariously close to Hoppang’s feet. Seung-Gil sighs, giving the husky another push. “Go and bother Phichit, Hoppang; he always says that you don’t love him enough.”

He chuckles at the wet tongue licking at his cheek, the scent of dog overwhelming his senses briefly before Hoppang takes off in the direction of the kitchen, papers filled to the margins with formulae and notes flying to hit him in the face. 

_ At least the ink’s all dried now. _

The papers fall into his lap, and Seung-Gil’s shoulders shake as he lets out a breath, pulling his mostly intact phone towards him.

_ Now let’s see what I missed. _

His phone opens to the last open app, and any remaining bliss in his body instantly drains away faster than the leaky drain in Phichit’s apartment as the potential porn bot message flashes before his eyes.

**Hey beautiful! We’re not doing so hot today...**

_ Right I...forgot about that.  _

The blue of the messages burn his retinas, and Seung-Gil stifles his groan with a bite to his bottom lip as he reaches up to rub at his eyes.

_ Maybe I should show this to Phichit. At least he’ll get a good laugh out of it- _

“No, Hoppang. That’s not for you, you silly dog.” Phichit’s laughter filters into the room, the tiredness evident in the slur of his words, and the words dry in Seung-Gil’s throat as he exits out of the app.  _ Maybe later after he’s more relaxed. _

Seung-Gil shrugs, dropping the phone back onto the dresser in a manner that would have made Phichit screech, before turning his attention back to the pages and notebooks strewn haphazardly across the floor and rolling up his sleeves.  _ I’ll worry about that later.  _

 

* * *

 

Hoppang’s pants threaten to drown out the low humming of the fridge and the chattering of the television, fresh droplets of saliva spilling from her jowls to splatter on the sofa as the fresh scent of grilled meat and spices wafts through the air. Seung-Gil tilts his head, swallowing the sudden pool of saliva in his mouth before he mumbles, “I was going to set it up for you. We had an agreement before.”

Phichit chuckles, beckoning him to sit beside him from where he’s sprawled out on the cushions, their bowls of food safely out of Hoppang’s reach. “Agreements are made to be broken when there’s a special episode of The King and the Skater at stake, you know.”

Seung-Gil definitely does not pout when he drops beside his boyfriend, “I wanted to, though.”

His eyes widen when Phichit presses a chopsticks’ worth of beef and rice against the seam of his lips, a warm bowl moving to his lap with the same movement. “And you definitely will. Next time that is!” 

The growing smile in Phichit’s eyes is all the motivation the remaining tension in his body requires to flee, and the smile only grows when he swallows the bite of food with a small grin of his own. “Now sit back, shut up, and relax. You’re not going to want to blink, let alone look away in a few minutes.”

Seung-Gil snorts. “We’ll see about that.”

It turns out that Phichit is as always, right about all things regarding their forms of entertainment, the grip of his chopsticks growing looser and looser around his food as Arthur uncovers more and more cards, using their abilities in increasingly elaborate methods that make the mathematician side of him ache and scream for more. Not even Hoppang sucking down an entire piece of meat from his sweatpants and leaving the damp fabric sticking to his skin is enough to tear his eyes away from the screen, the shine of her nose dimly lit by the bright screen of his boyfriend’s phone as he live-tweets his reactions. The corners of his mouth stretch up into a barely repressed grin. 

_ Definitely made the right decision to tell him later. _

And  _ of course _ , that’s when Phichit speaks again, burrowing tighter against his side as he whispers, “By the way, Seung-Gil, did you get my text?”

Seung-Gil frowns, Hoppang whining when his fingers stop brushing against her ears. On the screen, Arthur drops into another low bow to the stone-faced King, but the tightness in his chest has nothing to do with the swelling of music whatsoever. “What text?”

Phichit giggles, motioning at his own phone with his chopsticks, the Twitter notifications still lighting up the screen. “The one I sent you this afternoon, silly! About a possible shift?”

_ Hey beautiful.  _ Seung-gil gulps, the sound echoing through his ears, cutting through sounds of the teary love confession playing on the screen. “That was you?”

Phichit tilts his head, “Yes...who did you think it was?”

Suddenly, the rice and warm meat in his stomach sits as heavy as deep fried vegetables, and Seung-Gil gulps. “Um.”

The wicked glint in Phichit’s eyes and the twist to his smirk put his previous ones to shame, and Seung-Gil digs his fingers into the meat of his thigh as his boyfriend shuffles closer, willing the blood to remain in his brain. “Oh no! You have to tell me now, Seung-Gil! Who did you think it was?”

“No.”

Phichit pouts. “Seung-Gil...”

“I said no.”

The pout deepens, the lips pursed in a perfect pucker waiting for a kiss. “I promise I won’t get mad!”

_ Well if he promises... _

He pitches his voice to a low grunt, tracing the patterns of dog hair on the floor as warmth blooms all over his face and pools in his ears. “A porn bot..”

He raises his arms just in time to block the pillow lightly tossed at his shoulder as Phichit’s raucous laughter rings throughout the room, “A porn bot? You seriously mistook my writing side for that of a porn bot? Oh my god!”

Seung-Gil shrugs, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as his boyfriend sprawls heavily in his lap with a groan, the bowls of food carefully balanced in his arms as he nestles against his chest. “You usually just text me from your own phone. Did it finally break?”

The light slap to his bicep is no more rougher than Hoppang’s tail against his legs, but Seung-Gil whines all the same. “How dare you accuse me of neglecting my baby. And no, it was the portable charger.”

Seung-Gil hums, his free hand reaching down to cup Phichit’s nape as he rests his head on his shoulder, his lips pressing against his skin through the thin layer of his shirt. “I’ll buy you a new one for your birthday.”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

“No.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

 


End file.
